When Words Count Writer's Retreat Part One

Often, the talented man who runs my Wednesday night writer's group says that it's all about the details when he praises my work.  The same holds true for When Words Count Retreat Center in the beautiful, bucolic Vermont town of Rochester -- the details make for an unforgettable destination all writers should be lucky enough to experience. I knew I had found my way to a small slice of Heaven from the moment I walked in and spied a sign advertising the Writer's Cafe, the name for the dining room and comfortable sitting inglenook soon to the immediate right beyond the front door.  I arrived on October 7, a brisk overcast Sunday, after a delightful ride up through New Hampshire and across the heart of our closest neighbor to the East.  And for the next four days, it was my absolute pleasure to explore this new, beautiful space designed specifically to pamper writers.  The details were, quite honestly, divine.

My journey to When Words Count began while I was checking emails up in my private room at Camp NECon this past July, when I happened to catch an ad on my Facebook page that offered a free stay at a new retreat center in the Green Mountain State.  I applied, not thinking much about the deal again until the day after I returned from Star Island when I received a phone call from spokesman Jon Reisfeld announcing I had won one of the fifty sweepstakes prizes -- a three-day stay.

2012 has been my year to travel, but I've been methodical in my planning and preparation work, so when the chance to visit When Words Count landed in my lap, I almost declined.  With increasing frequency, ten months of planes, trains, and automobiles (not to mention buses and ferry boats) have taken a toll on my energy reserves.  I'm a nester by nature; until January, I'd assumed my years of adventures in distant realms were behind me.  But a few days before departing, I decided to treat myself to an additional day in Vermont and the gourmet fare served by renown chef Paul Kremar, the man credited with re-popularizing the flat bread pizza here in the U.S.  Right up until the moment we left for Rochester, writing obligations kept me working -- a TV episode proposal and two short stories dogged me deep into the weekend.  One of the stories made it from longhand draft to computer that Sunday morning, but at 11:50, I knew I'd have to take "Princess and the Bee" (a fairy tale/Lovecraftian mash-up requested by an editor at Chaosium Press) with me.  And so we departed.  Lunch in Lebanon, NH.  A beautiful and effortless drive through northern forest country dressed in colorful autumn foliage.  A trip over a mountain, thanks to wonky Mapquest directions, and then we followed the crisp white signs set at intervals along a winding road to When Words Count.  Perhaps it was my lack of preparation, or the absence of real build-up -- as stated, this particular trip sneaked up without much fanfare, sandwiched between a retreat to Star Island I'd anticipated for nine full months and an annual week-long visit to North Conway.

I'm more inclined to believe the magic that embraced me from the instant I set foot in the main house, lovingly restored by owner Steve Eisner and his gorgeous wife Nele, owes entirely to the mindset and mission of When Words Count.  Immediately, guests know they do. When all was done, I'd penned some 7,000 fresh words, including a chapter-plus on a novel stalled within clear sight of its The End and a short story that had eluded me since the spring.

All of the guest rooms at When Words Count are named in honor of celebrated authors -- Ernest Hemingway, Emily Dickenson, F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I was originally booked into the Robert Frost Room, but got upgraded to Arthur Miller, a room so elegant and comfortable, I glided through my edits and had them emailed off to my waiting editor a minute or so before 5:30.  I then wandered down through the Julia Child kitchen to the Gertrude Stein Salon, the central gathering room complete with bookcases, comfortable seating, and fireplace, where Chef Paul serves delicious appetizers and cocktails to guests.  Dinner followed at six; it was, simply put, exquisite.  Hors d'oeuvers in the Stein Salon that first night were phyllo tarts with goat cheese and a trio of onions.  Dinner consisted of grilled pork tenderloin on a potato galette with homemade chipotle creme fraiche, roasted Atlantic salmon with a maple-mustard glaze, saffron-scented Basmati rice and sauteed spinach, wedge salad with creamy bleu cheese dressing and grape tomatoes, and warm chocolate chocolate chip cookies.

Three of my fellow four conferees during my stay arrived right before Sunday night dinner.  The first, the delightful and talented Amber Lisa, inspired me with her passion for writing and her enthusiasm for the retreat center, which was as instant as my own.  We dined, laughed, returned to the Stein Salon, and were treated to an impromptu concert by singer/songwriter Chrissie Van Wormer, who blew us all away with her angelic voice and original lyrics.  I retired to the Arthur Miller Room, slipped between the supremely luxurious quilt and high-thread-count sheets, and passed out seconds after closing my eyes.

Up early the next morning, I showered, dressed in comfortable clothes that included one of my 'writing couture' shirts, and dove straight into my novel BLINDERS, about a drifter who integrates into a dysfunctional family in a fictional Berkshire Mountains town, and was stunned with the ease in which I got back into a story that's been stalled and sitting in the 'drawer of shame' of one of my two big filing cabinets for six years.  I had nearly an entire chapter down before breakfast beckoned us for fluffy eggs, fresh fruit, and toast made from artisan bread, all of the ingredients sourced from local farms, another of Chef Paul's standards.  Lunch was no less spectacular, with salad and slices of cheddar cheese.  One of the daily treats is anticipating the posting of the dinner menu. Before gathering for a reading in the Stein Salon, Monday, 10/8's consisted of kicked-up deviled eggs with lemon zest for hors d'oeuvers, Norman Mailer's stuffed mushrooms, beef and pork meatballs slowly simmered in spicy tomato sauce and served over parmesan polenta with braised fennel, green salad with marinated feta, black olives, and balsamic vinaigrette, and warm peanut butter cookies.

As stated, a slice of Heaven, truly.

To be continued.

September 2012 Writer's Group Party

Honey-teriyake steak tips sizzled, a delicious sesame seed bread went into the oven, deviled eggs got arranged on my kitschy chicken platter, cherry-seltzer punch was in the big drinks dispenser, and the house sparkled in anticipation of welcoming good writer friends and comrades for our annual September Sunday party, a tradition that dates back to 2005. Since then, we've always hosted an open house during my favorite month of the year. We started way-back-when by dovetailing the parties to the season premiere of Desperate Housewives, an event we always anticipated.  Following the cancellation of our former appointment viewing show, this year's potluck was different for other reasons as well -- and one of the most enjoyable parties we've ever thrown.

I've been a member of three writer's groups. Tenure in the first lasted for sixteen years, the second for two and a half.  I joined my current group a year and a half ago, and have found a level of comfort and enthusiasm that has directly benefited my writing output. Long ago in that first writer's group, the autumn of 1995, I created the concept of monthly potluck get-togethers where colleagues broke bread, read stories, poems, and novel chapters on a theme and, above all, had a day of fun celebrating the writing we all love so passionately.  This month's theme was: "Surprise!" -- and the dozen fantastic scribes who attended took the prompt and produced stellar work.

Guests began to arrive at noon.  A blackberry candle burned, and not one but two pumpkins decorated the space. At right, the talented Sara Fowles, Roxanne Dent, Karen Dent, and Douglas Poirier, all published, all producing exciting new work, lounge following the incredible spread, which also boasted peanut noodles, Thai basil chicken over garlic basmati rice, salad, an incredible Hungarian chicken-paprika dish, two kinds of homemade brownies (caramel walnut and chocolate chip), chocolate chip cookies stuffed with Oreos served out of a beautiful decorated jack o'lantern, and a platter of cookies.

The gorgeous and fabulous novelist, short story writer, playwright, and screenwriter Roxanne Dent treated us to a fantastic new story that exceeded the theme's expectations.  She and Karen then performed Karen's short play, which was shockingly brilliant.  Karen, I must note yet again, was quite the visible actress before turning her talents to writing.  She routinely worked on my favorite late, lamented soap, One Life to Live as a day player, as well as numerous New York-based dramas and some major feature films.

Every story read was engaging and helped to create an atmosphere of inspiration and energy that only grew more addictive as the afternoon progressed.  While we dined and read, episodes of Space:1999 on DVD played with the volume muted on our flat-screen, adding to the creative vibe.

When my turn came, I read the opening and the second chapter of a new project that came to me on the final day on Star Island during my recent island writing retreat adventure, a novel called Oh Happy Day.  And I was quite happy with the results, even though I was less than twelve hours away from a miserable autumn cold identical to ones that kept two of our friends from attending.

As has often been the case, that wonderful uplifting energy surged all day and into the early night, but the party ended too soon and our guests disbanded.  I cleaned up with an ease like no party ever before, and the house continued to sparkle.  The temptation to snuggle up in my Writing Room possessed me, but then the first sign of the cold lurking in my system manifested, and so I crawled into bed, catching myself smiling from time to time.  It was a fantastic writer's group party, the latest in a long line.  Maybe my favorite party of the past eight Septembers. Next up, our second annual Christmas soiree, and I can't wait to hear the writing that will result from the theme, which was handed out during the September party: each guest received an envelope with a different prompt inside.  I got the one that reads: "Something found in an old book."

TALES OF TERROR AND MAYHEM Part Two

Over the course of two years, a writer whose former friendship burned briefly but brightly developed a habit of leaving things behind following her regular visits to our home -- colored paperclips, the small neon post-it notes she used to mark stories and poems written in journals without page numbers, postcards and other ephemera.  Toward the end of the friendship,  she attempted to drop off furniture that wasn't wanted nor needed.  In the aftermath, I was faced with so many reminders of that lost friendship, everywhere I turned, that I was forced to set about removing the artwork and empty journals (I write my first drafts on notepads with tear-off sheets, store them numbered and in decorative file folders) just to be able to create comfortably in my home again without constant reminders of the ugly way the relationship went nuclear, for reasons that remain unclear to this day.

The notion that the objects we are surrounded by within our homes can be and sometimes are imbued with a kind of energy, negative or positive, formed the basis for the original short story I wrote specifically for Tales of Terror and Mayhem From Deep Within the Box when approached by Charles Day.  In my story "Material Possession," a man attempts to get everything within his home just so, just right, only his efforts at perfection are hampered by one or more of the unwanted objects within its walls.  Writing the story was both therapeutic and fun -- and I am thrilled by the results, which can be read among a Table of Contents that contains twenty-three fine stories by some of the most talented authors in publishing.

Many of my fellow contributors shared the back stories behind their stories in Tales of Terror and Mayhem From Deep Within the Box.


Jon Michael Kelley on "Delano":  "Immediately upon reading the call for this terrific anthology, my mind’s eye framed a rather stark, cheerless portrait of a jack-in-the-box.  Picture a Czechoslovakian toy, balsa and brass, desolate in sepia, through a grainy pre-World War II lens… Is an image starting to form? I then followed through with an austere landscape, one contemporaneous with political fanaticism, contaminating industry, and a suffocating poverty of hope. Oh, and rampant charlatanry. A cheerless mess, to say the least, yes? But beneath this forlorn land there flows an undercurrent of enchantment; a kind of taciturn magic. Hope springs eternal. And with "Delano" I intend to show that optimism can be achieved, even if it has itself assumed a sublime malevolence.”

Rebecca Besser on “Memories”: When I sat down to write "Memories," I knew that I wanted to be somewhat misleading and deceptive. I also knew that I wanted to creep out the reader from the very beginning (hence the first line of my story). Back to the deception... I live in a small, rural area with good, decent people that some would find extremely strange. Yes, I live in the world of rednecks. I know from experience that most of these people who seem strange to the outside world are kind and generous, and nothing to be feared at all. I wanted to play on that a bit. So, I took the crazy-seeming character and made him the good guy after he scared the crap out of people just because he was different. Then, I took the 'normal,' cookie cutter perfect couple and spun them on their top. Basically, I wanted to creep out the reader and make them think about what they saw in life versus their preconceived notions about what things really are. We're all guilty of falling into this flawed trench of thought from time to time, and we need to willfully pull ourselves out to see the truth -- the truth is a wonderful thing. I hope you enjoy "Memories" -- may it hit its mark in your heart and send a chill down your spine."

David C. Hayes on "The Grindylow": The premise of "The Grindylow" was a rather difficult one to address. The initial concept of the story was to create a piece to illustrate the plight of neglected children, children living in squalor and the people that deal with these tragedies on a daily basis. These are all too real instances of pain and abuse that professionals, like our story detectives, must face daily and that children must endure. Therein lies the need for vengeance. Revenge for the wrongs committed against the two little girls in that tenement apartment and, hopefully, a warning to future parents of dubious ethics. I fully realize that this is fiction and, given the fact it is a piece of literature in an anthology, my audience isn't going to be comprised of those aforementioned breeders with low moral fortitude. This was more for me. I'm a selfish writer and always have been. If you read my work, and take the journey I wish you to take, then I get to pick where we go. You may call shotgun (that is perfectly acceptable), but I'm driving. I needed to say something about the plight of so many innocent children and I needed vengeance, even if it was in my own head. So I spoke through the tears of those, like me, that fervently wished these atrocities would never happen. A little research and a water-based creature, a Welsh boogeyman of sorts, fit the bill. I knew that the tears called him and I knew that he punished folks for their misdeeds. He just needed a little...direction. The grindylow took our neglectful, hurtful and hopelessly flawed mother and made sure that she could never, ever, make the same mistakes again. The children (two out of how many hundreds of thousands, dear God) would end up in a better home. Rested and never worried about their next meal. Our detectives would go on to heart-wrenching case after heart-wrenching case, which is their lot in life. The grindylow? Hell, who knows? How about, just to be safe, you make sure that he never has a cause to visit you... 'kay?"

Bruce Turnbull on "Clown Alley": "The first thing that came to mind when I saw the Jester’s Box opening was a room full of clowns. It occurred to me that it must take a strange, hollow individual to join the circus, to put on that grotesque makeup, to perform like a dancing monkey before thousands of spectators. It seemed like punishment to me. I started to narrow in on one

individual, a man who had something to hide, something dark and damaging. To hide the scars, he would vanish beneath the greasepaint, until he was unrecognizable. But we can’t leave the past where it belongs, not when it rules our every waking thought. It is like this for Conrad, the new arrival at the big top, who, surrounded by fellow clowning professionals, feels through safety in numbers he can unburden himself of his dark deeds. Or so he thinks…"

Tara Sayers on "Rest Stop":  "Back in March 2004, I was driving by myself down to Flint, Michigan (a three-hour drive from where I was living in northern Michigan) to go to a concert. Along the way, I pulled off into a rest area, and was instantly hit with a strong sensation of déjà vu. Everything looked ominously familiar. Like Katie, the protagonist in my story, I’m not usually prone to attacks of paranoia when traveling alone, but I found myself feeling very nervous and got back on the road as quickly as possible. After the show, driving home in the middle of the night, my imagination took over and came up with a scenario explaining the frightening familiarity of that roadside rest stop. As soon as I was safely home, I sat down and wrote this story -- frequently checking behind me the entire time."

Doug Rinaldi on "Cruciform": "'Cruciform' started as a late night pass-the-pad-and-pen-around drunken mess between me and two of my college roommates back in '94, or sometime around there.  Every so often, bored out of skulls yet still too afraid to drop acid, we would just sit around and write goofy stuff to each other in efforts to either outdo the previous attempt or make someone squirt Schlitz Ice out of their nose.  But the core story that was born that night stuck with me and eventually evolved into what it is today.  Once the piece's name came to me years later, I knew exactly where Aaron's bad luck would take him and what atrocities he would be forced to witness.  I believe the original story, however, ended with Pat Sajak fighting an octopus or something else completely absurd -- which may or may not have been a better ending (depending on who you'd ask, of course)."

Steven Gepp on "Second Chance": "I sat down and watched a TV show where some guy was given a second chance at life and everything turned out all hunky dory because he changed one decision as a rash youth. You know, uplifting and wonderful and enough to make most adults nauseous. Well, I got to thinking: what if the second chance did not result in entirely the desired result? It features a character who has made an appearance in a few tales -- Fur Animorum.  He's my Demon. This is his third anthology appearance, and he makes a nice understated villain. Well, villain-ish. He really only gives people what they want. And in this story -- 'Second Chance' -- he really does give Roscie Boom everything his heart desires. And then some."

D. G. Sutter on "Dust of the Earth":  "It was while I was editing the collection Alienology: Tales from the Void, for the former Library of the Living Dead, that I came up with the idea for "Dust of the Earth". My mind started to reel, thinking that humans weren't the only intelligent life. Why is it that we should be the solely blessed lifeforms to understand? In the billions of galaxies out there floating about, can there possibly be no others? "Dust of the Earth" developed from my fascination with what is unprodded, particularly with our own planet. What lies beneath the crust? Just how far down have we inspected, and do we truly care to know exactly what could be found? I did my research and thought it would be really neat if I could somehow incorporate archeology into a story dealing with things left undiscovered. Somehow, it seemed rather appropriate."

Mark Taylor on "Inc.": "I had a bad meeting. I work in company development and this suit turns up one day and tells me that they're not going to renew the contract: financial reasons. They can turn a bigger profit by downsizing the number of contractors they have. That was it. The money was gone. People were going to lose their jobs, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. 

Except kill the guy.

And that was where "Inc." was born. I wanted bloody revenge, and people get upset when I murder my co-workers. I've never understood why..."

Gerry Huntman on "Whatever Happens, Happens": "The idea for the story was pretty simple: I saw a wonderful photograph of an antique doll whose ceramic face was uniformly cracked. It was creepy and I immediately went into creative mode. While the supernatural nature of the doll was key, like many stories that blossom, the theme of the short moved elsewhere. I wanted this to be character-driven and have the POV character be loathed and sympathized with at the same time. The doll knitted the story together, tying the beginning, middle and ends into a cohesive whole. As always, I don't miss an opportunity to add something of myself, and in this case, the little girl who owned the doll is very much like my daughter, Erin, and (unfortunately), the rather malignant grandmother is reminiscent of my own experience as a toddler. All in all, this story came together quickly, and with a great deal of satisfaction."

Chris Samson on "Merrily, Merrily, Merrily": "This story actually has a very straightforward explanation.  I had a dream that I was on the perfect date with my punk-rock high school crush.  It was one of the most realistic dreams I’ve ever had.  When I woke, for a split-second I was consumed with an all-encompassing desire to get back and keep the dream going.  Later I began wondering what if I had gone back?  What if I got to continue with that wonderful dream every night?  Sleeping would soon become a highlight of my day, and I’d look forward to it more than anything else.  I had a passing familiarity with research on addiction and I began researching dopamine production as well. The pieces began falling into place.  The story was a perfect fit for my recurring heroine Morgan LeBell.  All I needed was a supernatural cause for this dream manipulation..."

Suzanne Robb on "Threshhold": "Threshold was the culmination of several things. A foreign film, an old book, and a documentary on haunted houses. I mashed them together and came up with an idea where something was trying to haunt the house, but couldn't quite make it inside. When the main character does cross the threshold after a rather gruesome confrontation, she is introduced to a nightmare world. Question is, does she belong there? You have to read the story to find out." 

TALES OF TERROR AND MAYHEM Part One

I first met Evil Jester Press publisher Charles Day and his alter ego, the Evil Little Jester, through the virtual realm of email and various forums for writers.  When he approached me about contributing to a new project he planned to put plenty of sweat and equal parts soul into, I was thrilled -- Charlie is one of the true passionate gentlemen in the industry, and his idea was to gather together some of his favorite contemporary authors within the covers of a standout collection of terrifying original short stories.  Among them would also be the Jester's secret back story.

Tales of Terror and Mayhem From Deep Within the Box, which contains my short story "Material Possession" about one man's obsession with the objects that share his living space, was recently unleashed upon an unsuspecting public in both e- and print formats.  Mustering my bravery, I dared to give the Jester's box a few turns of the crank and ventured deep within for a better look at the many gems featured in the collection's Table of Contents.  But first up, I spoke with the man behind the mayhem, the inimitable Charles Day.

Share with us the deets of your association with the Evil Little Jester—how did the two of you meet?

Well, I was walking through the woods one eerie and foggy night, and I happened to trip upon a small box, and….Hehehe! Just kidding my jesterly friends! Actually, the two of us met a few years back when I was first frequenting the small press forums, when submission calls for their anthologies were on fire. So, so many small presses to choose from, not enough time to write. Anyway, I needed a picture, an avatar of sorts, and I found the evil dude posing in a photo. And soon after it was love at first sight. From there, we bonded almost instantly. He became my alter ego, my muse, my best friend. I do have to add that it’s been a terrifying ride for me, but the stories my pal and I've created together have been worth it. Many times while reaching down into his box for a story, I was either bitten in the arm, the wrists, or a finger, until finally he warmed up to me. Well, that and because he began to recognize my aroma.  Nonetheless, today we are inseparable, two peas in the same pod you might say. 

Each of the stories in Tales of Terror and Mayhem From Deep Within the Box is prefaced by an introductory micro-story about how your alter ego came to know the author, which is fairly cool and original. Have any of the details been fictionalized?  Or are those introductions completely straightforward nonfiction about meetings and greetings between editor and author?

First I have to say, I’m so damn proud of this book, all the authors, Jessica Weiss, and Wicked East Press for helping me bring my idea to fruition. And I feel the story written by the evil Jester and I, titled "The Gift," has got to be the best short story I’ve written to date. When you read it, you’ll see that our hearts and soul are in this one. 

Getting back to your question, dear Gregory, I’d say some of the introductions are fictional, while others were from true experiences with a few authors who I was friends with early on. Now…the Evil Jester and I consider all the authors inside our collection writer friends. I’ve had the admirable opportunity to meet some at a few  writer’s conferences, and now many will be attending the upcoming Anthocon, to be held in Portsmouth, New Hampshire this coming November 9-11.  Hell, we’re all going to crash the Jester’s hotel room and bathe him in stinky beer and have a kick-ass Tales of Terror and Mayhem party. What, you don’t believe me? Well, just keep an eye out for the photos to appear on Facebook, shortly after the conference.

This seems a fitting one year anniversary hallmark for Evil Jester Press -- to release this particular book on your One Year Mark (the traditional one year anniversary gift is paper, you know). What have been some of the downs over the past year of being a publisher, and share with us the ups.

To be honest, there really isn’t that much on the “downs.” As with any business, the first year is all about sacrifices, investments, securing capital, throwing whatever profits and some of my own income I make back into the business so it can continue to grow. I’m fortunate to have a full-time day job and loving wife, otherwise, my wife may have changed the locks on the doors by now. But the biggest thing for me these last six months, and I know it’s personal, but I’ve been very limited on finishing up my own writing. My novel Deep Within is almost done. I’m applying the final edits from my editor Henry Snider, and then it needs to find a home.  I currently have four publishers interested in it.  So… talk about pressure. Yikes!

I also have some other projects, mostly Young Adult fiction that’s nearing completion. So, it’s been tough to get ample time to devote to getting these writing projects done. Nevertheless, they will eventually be done and off to find a publisher soon. No worries. I have more than enough accumulated vacation time from my day job, and I plan on using it. And I’ve started to apply the first round edits on my new YA western horror trilogy, Kyle McGertt, Destroyer of the Indian Curses: Book 1 the Hunt for the Ghoulish Bartender, which is being published with Blood Bound Books, Winter 2013. I’m real excited to get this first in the trilogy out. On the upside, being a publisher is rewarding because I get to work with so many authors and editors, meet new authors, and share some good times at conferences. I’m honored to have two great editors in charge, Peter Giglio and Eric Shapiro, and equally grateful for all the contributing editors and authors who are now, or soon to be a part of our jesterly crew. I’m also thrilled that in one year, we have not stopped in our growth or forward momentum, bringing out quality books and increasing our readership each month.

What’s next for EJP? 

Well, I’ll need to go knock on the Evil Jester’s lid and let him tell you what he’s doing. I’ll be right back! He’s a freaking work horse, to say the least.

Evil Jester here. Hello my jesterly friends. Where to start? Okay! We have more great titles on the way, and of course many are aware that we are humbly honored to have Joe McKinney doing a novel with us. Inheritance is due out in November, but the buzz around this book is incredible. Not only are our devoted readers and fans of the Evil Jester excited to get a copy, we have noticed many new readers are waiting. And then of course there’s Joe’s loving fans that can’t wait to read this.

Charles Day and I have always been comic enthusiasts as a kids, especially the EC comics and Tales from the Crypt, and Vault of Horror, and so much more. Well, I’m excited to announce that we’ve started a new division under the Evil Jester Press publishing company, helmed by David C. Hayes, who is both knowledgeable and a lover of comics as well. He’s also a damn great professional when it comes to script-writing, and he’s got the eye for artistic talent, and so together Charles, David, and I as co-creators are going to bring you the most amazing new series of graphic novels in the near future. You are in for a real treat. Evil Jester Presents Vol #1 will be filled with great stories from the big names you’ve come to love and respect, to the rising stars. Their stories will be adapted into comic form and our artists will have you fully engaged in the superior, full color art work. Now, bear in mind, the sky’s the limit on what we are going to do with this new division. Do I want to see more comic series develop? Hell yeah! Are we going to offer more variety in our choices? Yes. Stay tuned. The Evil Jester is building a bigger box and you’re all invited to come on in and play. 

When next the Jester's box opens, the authors in Tales of Terror and Mayhem share a bit of backstory behind their stories.  Stay tuned!

Writer's Retreat on Star Island, Part 2

The lighthouse on Lunging Island

Every twenty-two seconds, the lighthouse on nearby Lunging Island sounds a melancholy note.  From my room on the second floor of Cottage B on Star Island, the elegy crept in at night from the open window that faced the Oceanic Hotel and the small, ancient graveyard and gazebo house overlooking the Atlantic. Between Star Island and Lunging, a notorious landmark known as Halfway Rock is marked by a buoy that rings in counterpoint.  Halfway Rock is an unforgiving outcrop known to feast upon the keels of vessels, some as recently as the summer of 2012.  Very late at nights in my room, my mind fixated on the melodies, leading me to close that one window through which the ocean breeze swept.  Mornings were a symphony of gulls and crashing waves, the ever-present lighthouse, and, on one morning, a bit of spirited and colorful dialogue from fishermen on the decks of boats anchored in the harbor directly across from my front window.

On the second day of the Writelines workshop conducted by Dale Finley-Slongwhite, particular prompts led to the openings of three short and long stories.  The prompts and these starts fueled my inspiration into the stratosphere -- Dale presented us with such great challenges!  One of the biggest Writelines policies is that what happens inside the workshop stays within the workshop, so I've respectfully agreed not to discuss the specific prompts.  I will, however, say they were all great.  By Wednesday, one in particular put high octane ink in my fountain pen and I began work on a novella near and dear to me that had stalled, despite a publisher's interest in contracting for the project.  I placed the nib to the page and by day's end had another 3,000 quality words.  By the workshop's conclusion, I'd written forty-one pages of "The Ferry," taking it past the halfway point.  En route to the island, hoping for such a breakthrough, I'd interviewed the First Officer onboard the Thomas Laighton, who was gracious and giving about the daily operations on board the ferry. Once moving again, my pen never stilled.

The ancient graveyard and gazebo house on Star Island

When not workshopping -- and Dale kept us beautifully busy -- I communed with the Muse and thoughts of stories waiting to be penned. One new project in particular shadowed me about the island, filling me with enthusiasm.  I read a Space:1999 paperback novel I'd snagged at 2008's Camp NECon writer's conference, and could not put it down. I rocked in one of dozens of rattan rockers lined along the Oceanic's vast front veranda, flipped through the latest issue of Poets and Writers Magazine, dreamed.  But more than anything, I wrote. Through a moody, misty-gray Tuesday. Through a humid Wednesday.  Through bright and warm Thursday and Friday.  I wrote and recaptured much of the depleted energy I've expended during this incredible year of 2012.  In all, I put down nearly 16,000 words of fresh copy -- three story starts, all keepers, my pages of "The Ferry," and a complete new short story.

Me and MUSE on the Oceanic veranda, Credit: Frank Hochreiter

Meals at the Oceanic were amazing, most of the vegetables in salads, soups, and stews originating in the lush gardens tended on Star Island.  Rooms in the cottages and hotel lack air conditioning and fans but mostly I never noticed -- the Atlantic provided constant breezes. Everywhere one turns, views are spectacular. Dale really pushed us and kept us writing.  The constant momentum, near boot-camp in delivery, tapped into reserves.  The results were fantastic.  As for my fellow conferees, I could not have been surrounded by lovelier folk.

As the ferry again appeared, ready to return me to home and family, my backpack filled to capacity, my creativity fueled, I thanked my lucky stars that, long last, I took the plunge and committed to the Writelines retreat on Star Island.

Writer's Retreat on Star Island, Part 1

Welcome to the Oceanic Hotel on Star Island, complete with Writing Room!

My five-day adventure to Star Island in the Isles of Shoals began well before last January, when I committed to the September writer's retreat offered by Dale Finley Slongwhite, a gifted writer and passionate facilitator who first fell in love with the venue following a summer cruise where paths crossed and the Fates were generous. In 2009, after leaving the writer's group I had been an integral part of for nearly sixteen years, I went in search of other retreats, other destinations, and read of Dale's annual pilgrimage for storytellers to the second largest of the islands in the archipelago, some ten miles off the coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  This year in which I've traveled extensively, attended writing conferences, and retreated to places near, dear, and far, I gave myself the gift of Star Island and Dale's retreat for writers.  The result was beyond fantastic -- dare I believe miraculous? One thing is for certain: the past five days will stay with me for the rest of my life.

But first, let me preface by saying I took lots of pictures.  Lots and lots, on the new digital camera I purchased two days before sojourning to the Isles of Shoals Shipping Company's dock, where I would ride Thomas Laighton to Star Island.  I have very little interest in photography and, as most know, a huge resistance to complicated technological advances.  Give me one or two buttons and I'm fine. Scrolling through numerous screens and multiple steps can send my blood pressure skyrocketing. My darling Bruce, who loves photography and his digital camera -- a Christmas gift in 2005 that still rates, according to him, as the best ever -- completely understands the procedure and gave me an excellent tutorial to keep my pulse slow and steady during the operation of my sweet little Vivitar.  If only he'd told me to download all those many lovely photographs before changing batteries to avoid wiping out the memory card.  Oh well, live and learn.

(The Oceanic Hotel as seen from the deck of the ferry)

I boarded the ferry with Dale and several of my fellow retreaters, all of whom seemed genuinely lovely (and, as our days and workshopping commenced, proved that my first impressions were indeed correct).  A bright Monday afternoon ride across the Atlantic set the stage for a unique adventure.

As the Thomas Laighton charged and rolled forward, the islands appeared, rising up from the blue.  My pulse quickened; the grand old hotel, The Oceanic, materialized.  In 1995, I wrote a novel set on these very islands, a modern Gothic tale of suspense and intrigue called The Strange Goings-on at Brathemore Hall.  My screenplay-in-progress, Agatha Christie, is also set here as well.  I'd never visited Star Island before but in a way I had, numerous times, through my Muse.

I stepped off the ferry, my big backpack stuffed to capacity with everything from my stapler, plenty of blank note pads, and several note cards on manuscripts I hoped to work on to my new laptop and backup pens.  We took in a mandatory orientation on the island and its gestalt -- recycling, water use, fire safety -- and then found our luggage and moseyed to our rooms.  Ours were housed in one of the 'cottages' that run in a line along the hotel, all connected by a boardwalk whose details I memorized and whose route I must have walked a thousand times during workshop breaks. Though set up for a bunk mate, I lucked out again and got private accommodations, my room on the second floor consisting of two basic single beds set beneath the eaves and whose windows gazed out at the island and its two nearest neighbors. A delicious dinner welcomed us -- all of our meals were rustic yet exquisite (apart from the proliferation of black beans that found their way into eggs at breakfast, luscious homemade soups at lunch, and salads at dinner), and then we six writers gathered in the library room with its long writing table, chairs with tufted cushions, and stunning views of both Appledore and Smuttynose Islands.  The first of what would amount to twenty writing prompts in total challenged us to create.  We put pens to paper and, though mostly strangers until our arrival to Star Island, soon formed a bond of respect for one another, creating the first unforgettable memories.

And some damn fine writing.

To be continued.

Meet Abe Spinney, A Reeler Movie Reviewer

(Abe with the legendary George A. Romero)

A little over a year and a half ago, I moseyed into my then-new writer's group and took to the big table, excited to read the opening to my steampunk short story, "The End of an Era." Among the unfamiliar faces that night was a talented young man named Abram Spinney who was in the thick of crafting a movie review of a flick memorable for all the wrong reasons, a 1980s Gremlins knockoff. Abe's love-hate relationship with the material was so hilarious in its delivery that I nearly spilled out of my seat, making me an instant fan -- and eager for his future takes on cinema's best and worst.

Abe's passion for film inspired him to create A Reeler Movie Reviewer, where some flicks are exulted while others get skewered in his inimitable style.  It was my great pleasure to sit down and talk with Abe about his celluloid dreams...and nightmares.

What's the worst movie you've ever seen and why does it hold that distinction for stink-tion? 

Wow, that is quite the question! Since I started doing this I have encountered only a few movies that define the very definition of pain and misery, mostly just pain. Three films stick out among all the contenders I have seen so far. The first is The Lost Continent, one of my earlier reviews which is well known for its agonizing twenty-minute rock climbing sequence. The second would definitely have to be Monster A Go Go, an abomination of spliced-together footage, boring and pointless sequences that go nowhere, and an ending so bad that it's practically a middle finger to anyone who watched it to the end. The third is one I am still preparing a review for -- I don’t know if you have heard of The Garbage Pail Kids, a film adaptation based on a series of trading cards.  To this day I’ve been mustering up the courage to tackle it.

What's the best/your favorite flick of all time? 

That’s a really broad question, actually, as there are so many movies that I enjoy, each for different reasons.  Here is my list of favorite movies based on their genres:

Horror: Dawn Of The Dead (the original) and The Host
Fantasy: The Seventh Voyage Of Sinbad
Science Fiction: John Carpenter’s The Thing and Alien
Comedy: Monty Python And The Holy Grail
Crime Thriller: The Chaser and Red Dragon
Action: The Dark Knight and Predator

Your film reviews are hilarious! What got you started writing summaries of bad cinema? 

Mystery ScienceTheater 3000 is one inspiration, but also the website That Guy With The Glasses, where some of my favorite web shows are. My three favorite shows are The Nostalgia Critic, The Cinema Snob, and Linkara. Watching their shows got me interested in the idea of doing my own reviews, so here I am!

Take us into your process -- do you sit down with a particular movie, take notes as you watch, or handcuff your arms behind your back to prevent you gouging your own eyes out?

First I have coffee. Lots and lots of coffee -- and I always have a cup on standby. Only a few movies have really driven me to the brink of insanity, but the worst that most others movies can do to me is cause me to fall asleep. It usually takes a second viewing of my topic before I know what I want to do for my article. I also learn about the movie or show's production history and how its was recieved by general audiences, whether it be good or bad. I try to be both humorous and informative in my reviews to give a sort of balance.

If you could interview anybody for your blog, who would it be and why?

If I had the opportunity to interview anyone it would be the cast from Mystery Science Theater 3000 -- Kevin Murphy, Bill Corbett, Michael Nelson, the original host Joel Hodgson, and everyone else on that show, especially the “Mads“. I absolutely loved that show! It was one of the factors that really pushed me to start reviewing movies, especially the bad ones. I still follow the trio on Rifftrax looking forward to what they’ll riff on next.

So why not microwave some popcorn, log onto A Reeler Movie Reviewer, put your feet up, and enjoy the show!